


The Last Five Years

by reysaglass



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Terminal Illnesses, but there will be some good things too, this is sad i am so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7217674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reysaglass/pseuds/reysaglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Laurens wasn't supposed to live past his 20th birthday. But here he is, 22 years old and ready to start his life. He's optimistic to say the least when he meets Alexander Hamilton, an irresponsible writer with absolutely nothing going for him. As John's health deteriorates, the two find themselves grasping for love and understanding from anywhere they can find it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: An Open Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So, this is only my second fic! Please leave a comment if you have any suggestions with what you want to see happen or if you have any complaints about terms/wording etc. I am not a medical expert, although I will try to do as much research as I can. This will be a slow burn AND I have absolutely no idea where I am going with this! I have a vague beginning, middle, and end but other than that... not much. I hope you like this beginning so far and I will be very inclined to update if you leave comments or kudos! You don't have to, but they would be greatly appreciated! Thanks for your time!

You died on a sunny November morning just weeks after your 27th birthday. The morning light gently touched your face as it engulfed your chair through the clear window. I like to think that you weren’t scared as your last breath left you. I like to think that when your heart finally gave in to the darkness that consumed the rest of your body, that you felt free. When I saw you, sitting there, a sleepy smile on your face, I was scared. I spent my entire time with you, John Laurens, being scared. But this was a different kind of fear. This time I wasn’t scared for you, I was scared for me. I was afraid of my life without you, my life, that I had built around making you feel well. In caring for you, I had lost myself. And let me be the first to say, it was worth it. But now, I had lost you too. This fear ate at my entire being for months after I saw you last.  
But when I imagine you, the moments before that morning, I don’t feel so bad anymore. I don’t like to remember you as I saw you last, but think of you in those precious moments before, those moments that I missed. I think of you, roused from sleep by a faint bird chirping. I like to think that you knew that this morning would be your last. And you would be damned if you were going to spend it in bed. You were always trying to get out of bed, John. I can almost see your eyes squeezed shut in determination as you made those small painful steps to your chair by the window. The first genuine smile in a long time as triumph instead of sickness flushed your face. You looked out into the morning sky, greeted by small flecks of sunshine peeking out over the houses and buildings. You had never seen anything so beautiful in your life. You were finally ready to go.  
I do find myself wondering what your last thought was. I hope that it was a good one. I selfishly hope that you thought about me, about us. You consume my thoughts at every waking hour, and sometimes when I’m asleep too. The least I can ask for is that you thought about me and how much I love you before you left. I’m slowly starting to be able to sleep again. I know you would be happy to know that. You were always so worried about me. You worried about everybody but yourself. It frightened me. Everybody is telling me to let you go. They say that you would want that. I know it’s the truth. But how could I? You were my entire life for five years. I saw myself growing old with you but you just have to beat me at everything, don’t you? Please don’t worry though, I’m taking my time. For once. I know you’re laughing at me, but it’s true. I want to see you again, but hey, it’s only a matter of time. And time is something that I want to have because you couldn’t. I’ll see you on the other side. Someday.


	2. Chapter One: A Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How To Yell At Someone To Win Their Heart" -A novel written, edited, published, and signed by Alexander Hamilton

    “Hey! Hey! Stop right there!” John Laurens turned around slowly, hoping the voice carrying itself through the strangled sputtering of New York City wasn’t calling out to him. He had only been in the city for three months, not long enough to be able to tune out the various strangers wanting to grab his attention. He clutched his books tighter to his chest and prepared himself to face the voice, give its owner some kind of I’m-From-The-South-Don’t-Fuck-With-Me glare. Look them right in the eyes.  
    John was surprised to find that he had to look down.  
    The man was standing way too close to John for his comfort. His breathing was labored, had he been chasing him?! Messy dark hair escaped a poorly kept bun at the nape of his neck. Large tired eyes scrunched up in determination stared straight back at John, melting his glare with their intensity. He took a step back and looked down at his shoes. “Look, I don’t have any money… I-I’m a college student. I’m sorry, I-” The man cut him off with an impatient wave of his hand.  
    “What?! Man, I don’t want your money! Do I look homeless?! Don’t answer that-” He didn’t even give Laurens time to blink. “I saw you! At the library! You checked out a book that I need! I tried to get to you but you had already left!” He shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted to meet John’s downward eyes. “I. Need. That. Book.” He pointed to the largest of the texts, practically spilling out of John’s hands.  
    John looked up and clenched his fingers tighter around the book. “Hey, I don’t want to start shit, but I got to it first. It’s mine. You can have it when I return it in two weeks, okay? And anyway, chasing down a stranger and demanding they hand something over isn’t the best way get what you want. Where I come from, we have manners.” The man rolled his eyes.  
    “Oh yeah, and where is that? Country Bumpkin town in Middle of Fucking Nowhere, USA? I have learned that, yeah, the best way to get things is to demand them. Loudly. You don’t get shit by being ‘polite’ or ‘waiting your turn’. I need that fucking book, and I’m gonna get it. Now. I haven’t slept in three days and I haven’t eaten in two. I have been working non stop on my thesis and in order for me to finish it, I need that book!” John blinked and took one more step back. The man had barely breathed in that whole rant, his voice becoming louder and louder until even the taxi cabs screeching by became a faint din in the background.  
    A slow smile spread across John’s face. Twenty two years he had demanded to come to New York. Loudly. With twenty three dollars in his pocket after the bus fair, he had made it. Maybe this guy was right. John had learned to take chances early in his life, was scared into it, by grey rooms and grey men in sickly white coats. He decided to take one now, right in front of this stranger  
    “Yeah, you can have this book-” The man reached for it and John caught his arm. “If you come get dinner with me.” It was the stranger’s turn to look down.  
    “I just chased you down for a block and a half, then yelled at you, then insulted you, then yelled at you again and you want to take me on a date? Wow, you must really not be from around here.” The man smiled faintly and looked back up at John.     “Just some advice, if a crazy Latino guy comes running at you from down the street, you should probably try to run faster. Or punch him.”  
    “I have a strange feeling that that wouldn’t really work, not with you anyway. In the three months that I’ve been here you are, by far, the most interesting person to yell at me yet. What’s the worst that could happen? If it’s a mistake, you can have your book and continue writing your paper. Let me give you a break.” John brightened with confidence at the man’s blush.  
    The stranger sighed and broke out into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let me give you my number, um…?” John stuck out his hand quickly, his overflow of books dropping to the pavement unceremoniously.  
    “Sorry. I’m, uh, John Laurens.” The man laughed and shook it.  
    “Nice to meet you, Uh John Laurens. I’m Alexander. Alexander Hamilton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter two! From now on, it will be the story of their relationship. New characters will be introduced! Enjoy the nice things while they last! Please, please, please like and comment! Thank you for reading!


End file.
